


Open Season (you won't get far)

by alamorn



Category: A Simple Favor (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at the door!Sometimes ill-advised sex is the best kind.





	Open Season (you won't get far)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelheadedhipster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/gifts).



> Title is a mondegreen of Red Rider’s “Lunatic Fringe.” The actual line/verse is _“lunatic fringe/ in the twilight’s last gleaming/ but this is open season/ but you won’t get too far/ ‘cause you’ve got to blame someone/ for your own confusion,”_ which, while applicable, does not make a catchy title. Summary is from Henry VIII, or, more specifically, from my Shakespearean Insults Daily Calendar, because it seemed too relevant to pass up.
> 
> Given how much I cackled when I read your prompt, I hope you get as much joy from the reading as I got from the writing. Happy Yuletide!

1.

Emily didn’t fuck her there on that couch, Stephanie’s face still wet from tears, eyes still rimmed red. Instead, Stephanie fled and Emily made herself another drink, staring out her stupid fuck-huge windows and considered. _Brotherfucker_ , and how hard could it be to get her pressed against that window she admired so much, split open around Emily’s hand?

The martini was cold and sharp. Stephanie’s pussy would be hot and soft, plush mommy-blogger lips, sweet as all her stupid dessert recipes. How did a woman with such a nasty secret end up with such a boring life? 

She finished her drink, and then she finished another. When Sean got home, she was upstairs, one of Stephanie’s insipid videos playing as her vibrator buzzed away.

“I see you’re busy,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

She knotted her free hand in his tie, pulled him down into a sloppy kiss, keeping her eyes fixed on Stephanie’s fixed grin as she said, “Now, if you want to be a little sinful, you can add some carob nibs to the batter for all the flavor of chocolate, with none of the guilt.”

Sean laughed into her lips. “You’ve never felt guilt a day in your life.” His hand drifted down to her cunt, his fingers finding her wet and ready beneath the vibrator at her clit.

“I want to destroy her,” Emily said. “I want to eat her alive.”

“She does look delectable,” he said, and his cock was out and in her, and he shoved her laptop to the side, so she had to twist her head to see Stephanie break out the standing mixer, her hands crawling up Sean’s back to dig her nails into his shoulders, holding him to her.

This whole stupid fucking office job and husband and mortgage might have been a mistake, but, as Sean took her from the enjoyable plateau she’d been playing on to a devastating peak and subsequent trembling valleys, she couldn’t bring herself to regret _Emily Nelson_ and everything attendant.

It was a moment of weakness, but no one would know.

 

2.

They didn’t talk, during. They moaned, they gasped, they clutched, they bit at each other, but they didn’t talk. They didn’t talk, and they kept the lights off. It was, unfortunately, some of the best sex Stephanie had ever had. She tried not to compare people against Chris, because, well, he _was_ her brother, and she shouldn’t know what he’d been like in bed, but. Sean was up there.

Or maybe it was grief, and she could only really get off when someone she loved was dead. That was fucked up — maybe more fucked up than fucking her brother, or her best friend’s husband? And who the hell could she ask that question to? Not a therapist, not one of the other PTA parents.

She could have admitted it to Emily, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? That Emily wasn’t here?

“I miss her,” she murmured into Sean’s chest. She stroked the divot of his sternum with a nervous finger, and he covered her hand with his, held it still.

“I miss her too,” he said.

Then he pulled her back over him and licked up into her. As she held onto the headboard, Stephanie wondered what it would have been like to comfort Emily through her grief, if it would have been as good.

That probably wasn’t a good question either.

 

3.

One grave, two martinis, and a boatload of lies.

“You look good,” Emily said. “This whole bitch Nancy Drew thing suits you.”

“Oh my God, thank you,” Stephanie said with that affected little giggle that made Emily want to kill her. Or fuck her? It was a difficult distinction, at this point, honestly. “You look good too — I don’t want to say death suits you, because that sounds a little cliche, if you know what I mean? But the suit, the snarl, the desperation, it’s, you know, good to see you. Off-balance, I mean.”

“Do you have to do that?” Emily asked, pouring herself another martini.

“Do what?” Stephanie asked, eyes wide.

“That whole bullshit ingenue thing. It might work on men, or people you haven’t confessed your brother-fucking to, but I know that’s not who you are.”

“Oh?” Stephanie laughed, a little breathlessly, as Emily drained her glass. Her eyes were locked on Emily’s throat. “You think you know who I am?”

Emily threw the glass to shatter on a neighboring grave, and when Stephanie flinched, Emily caged her in against the, frankly, ugly headstone Sean had chosen for her. She traced the tip of her nose against the bridge of Stephanie’s. “I have an idea,” she purred.

Stephanie’s fingers were wet with condensation and iced-martini cold against the bare curve of her breast. Emily’s nipples hardened the second Stephanie’s cold fingers brushed over them, and when Stephanie found them hard, she pinched. It was almost cruelly hard and Emily smiled, open-mouthed, delighted, before she bit at Stephanie’s lips.

When they drew apart, Stephanie’s eyes were dark and her nipples were hard under her lovely silk sheath. Emily couldn’t keep the pleased noise from rising out of her — Stephanie’d thought she had the upper hand, she’d been so fucking smug, and now look at her. “Now, either we go back to my shitty motel room, or I rip that pretty dress of yours and fuck you right here.”

“I guess we should celebrate our new alliance somehow,” Stephanie said.

Emily though about fingering Stephanie on the drive back to her shitty hotel room, but the sheath didn’t allow that much freedom. She kind of wished Stephanie would make the move instead, but no matter what kind of rated-M-Nancy-Drew thing Stephanie was trying for now, she still wasn’t _that sort of girl_ so Emily had to suffer a celibate drive.

That changed once they were in the room. She shoved Stephanie face first against the door and peeled her out of the dress before Stephanie could try and start another insipid battle of wits. Emily wasn’t worried about which of them was smarter — it was her — or which of them was more ruthless — her again — but she _was_ interested in what Stephanie’s pussy tasted like, and which of them could come more times in an hour.

It tasted like pussy, unsurprisingly, and the answer was Stephanie. Apparently fucking her best friend’s widower for a few months wasn’t enough to take her off the hair trigger that a years long drought had left her with.

 

4.

“My options are seeming pretty limited,” Emily said, gesturing floridly with the gun, “seeing as the two of you have worked pretty hard to limit them. Now, I’m willing to hear proposals, since Nicky likes you guys or whatever, and I’m trying to be a better mother now that I’m back from the dead, but I’m also on a schedule, so you have…two minutes.”

“Or you’ll shoot?” Sean said. “God, I should never have married you.”

“Yeah, that was probably a bad call on your part,” Emily agreed. “But that’s not sounding like a reason _not_ to shoot you.”

“How far do you think you’re gonna get on your own?” Stephanie asked.

Emily shrugged. “Another sixteen years? The rest of my life? Remember, I’m gonna have a _lot_ of money, and no more sisters to try and blackmail me.”

“You destroy everyone you touch,” Stephanie said, walking closer. “You know you do. If it’s just you and Nicky, you’re gonna ruin his life and he’s gonna grow up hating you for killing his dad and his better mom, and let’s not forget Grampa and Auntie…that’s a lot of people to take away from your little dude.”

Emily leveled the gun at her, aimed it square at the center of her forehead. “He always liked me more than Daddy anyway. He’ll get over it.”

“He didn’t get over you,” Sean said, too close — she shouldn’t have let them get on either side of her, she was trapped between them. She turned the gun on him.

“One minute left,” she said.

“Wouldn’t it be more fun with us around?” Stephanie asked, her lips by Emily’s ear, her hand wrapping around Emily’s over the gun, forcing it down. Sean was there in a second, adding his weight to Stephanie’s.

The jerk of the recoil almost threw them off of her, the couch spewing stuffing, so she did it again, but they had her now, the gun skidding off somewhere, Stephanie’s knee between her legs, thigh against her cunt, Sean’s chest hot against hers.

She didn’t go limp. Surrender wasn’t in her nature. She slammed her mouth into Sean’s, started to rip his shirt open, and then Stephanie pulled her backwards, arms tangled, so they fell back and sideways onto the couch, her skirt hiked up high on her thighs.

With a moment of distance, it looked like Sean might run, might decide that he was a pussy after all, the man he’d turned into, not the man she’d married. “Come on, babe,” she taunted, “it’s me or being bored every day of your miserable life. It’s not that hard.”

“Jesus,” he spat, and knelt between her legs, lifted her hips, and buried his face in her lap.

Stephanie’s breath went thready in her ear, just from watching, and Emily turned her head to kiss her savagely.

It was always better when it was a fight, and the more enemies, the harder the win. Emily was fucking phenomenal at winning. She just had to bide her time, maybe come a time or two. 

Despite her best intentions, she quickly lost control of the situation. Or what control she’d had, anyway — it was hard to tell whose lips were where, whose fingers were in her. The only thing she could tell was whose hot skin she was touching. She’d have to be pretty fucking out of it to mistake Stephanie’s tits for Sean’s chest.

Emily had never been the sort of person who liked to give up control in the bedroom. She’d heard of such things, of course — the high powered executive who just needed to be tied up, needed one place to not be in charge. She’d never identified with that. She excelled at her job because she was cruel and controlling. That didn’t change with setting.

There _was_ something arousing about the lack of control here though. She’d never been outplayed before, and she wasn’t sure she had been now. It was like fucking on the edge of a cliff. She’d die, or she’d come, or both, and she wouldn’t know how it ended until it was over. It was new. New was exciting.

She bit her orgasm into Stephanie’s tit, made sure Sean didn’t spend himself on her stomach or in her cunt, and relaxed into a boneless drape, crushing Stephanie’s small frame beneath her.

“Oh, shit, I’m going to be flagged as an adult content blog now,” Stephanie complained.

“What, if they find out you had sex? How do they think you became a mom?” Emily asked before biting at her collarbone once more, a little gentler than she’d intended. Post-coital bliss apparently took the edge off.

“No, because I’ve been live-streaming this whole thing,” Stephanie said, propping herself up on her elbows. Her hair was, Emily noticed smugly, an absolute mess.

It took another moment for the comment to land. “You’ve what?”

“Oh, I should have told you — yeah, it’s how I was going to capture you confessing,” Stephanie said. “Nanny cam on my cardigan. I bet I’ll make it to a million followers. They’ll probably be horny guys, but whatever.”

Emily paused for a long moment. “I can’t decide if that’s hot or not.”

Sean squeezed her breast. “Now you know what’s it’s like to be with you.”

“My intentions,” Stephanie said, “were law-abiding. And I’ve never killed anyone. In fact, at great personal risk, I’ve apprehended a dangerous criminal.”

Emily snorted and slid two fingers into Stephanie’s damp cunt. “Is that what this was?”

“Who could blame me for —“ she gasped at a twist in Emily’s wrist “forgetting the cuffs?”

“Totally understandable,” Emily said, extracting herself from the sweaty press of bodies. She slapped Sean’s ass on the way and dressed quickly. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“Oh, no, you’re going on the run again?” Stephanie asked. “I really should stop you, you know.”

“You’ve done your best, your viewers will understand,” Emily said. “And besides, you’ve gotta have more to keep them coming than just a killer shortbread recipe.”

As she slid out the back, she started thinking of new names, and when she’d be able to see Nicky again. Emily’d gotten boring anyway. Maybe something a little more androgynous this time…Max? Charlie?

She’d have plenty of time to think on the road.


End file.
